


Paradoxical Sleep

by womanaction



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanaction/pseuds/womanaction
Summary: When Sheldon and Penny begin sharing dreams, their relationship changes in ways they never anticipated. Repost from FFN - originally published in 2012.





	1. In Which Words Prove Their Magic

Penny took a deep breath. She was supposed to close her eyes, but she glanced around instead. Google had suggested that she place "items of importance" in her meditation area to help her "focus her mystical energies", so here she was in the middle of the floor of her apartment, couch pushed aside, with various knick-knacks strewn around her: a four-leaf clover she'd found years ago, a few "magic" candles from a thrift store, her grandmother's sapphire ring, and an autographed poster of Orlando Bloom. "If that won't help me focus my energies, I don't know what will," she said aloud, smiling a little.

Right. The chant. She glanced at the scrap paper where she'd scribbled the words again. It was so easy to memorize lines, this chant should be nothing. Well, it would have been, if only they'd had the decency to write it in English. Ugh. It wasn't even a pretty language, like Italian or French. To be honest, she wasn't sure what language it was at all, but the words did sound mystical enough.

Taking another breath and closing her eyes, she began. "Aum Aem Hreem Kleem—"

 _Knock knock knock._ "Penny?"

 _Knock knock knock._ "Penny?"

 _Knock knock knock._ "Penny?"

Stumbling to her feet, she opened the door. There stood Sheldon Cooper (, PhD, a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like his reminded her), as she knew he would be. Between his left index and middle fingers, he was gripping a mass of hot pink fabric, an expression of obvious aversion painted on his face.

"You left this at our apartment," he said, holding the jacket out to her. She took it from him, smiling.

"I wondered where I'd put that! Thanks, sweetie." Carefully, so as to avoid tripping on the candles, she took the jacket to the couch and tossed it onto the middle cushion. She expected for Sheldon to be gone when she turned around, but instead he was staring down at her meditation area like it was a pit of demons.

"What  _is_  this, Penny?"

"It's my meditation area. I was doing this happiness chant thing." She paused, and grinned. Oh, what the heck. "You want to join in?"

His expression grew even more disdainful at this remark, but he closed the door behind him as she took her place in the center of her meditation area once more. She shut her eyes and began chanting under her breath. "Penny, I hardly condone this sort of activity. While meditation has been proven to activate the parasympathetic nervous system and restore order to the body, I have never encountered a single study that would suggest chanting as an acceptable substitute to  _working_  for one's happiness. Additionally, these candles smell."

Without taking a break from her chanting, Penny leaned forward and blew the candles out. "Sheldon," she replied. "This is just one of those for fun kind of things, you know?  _Fun_. Like what normal people have."

"Excuse me, but I resent your implication." He puffed up angrily. "I am perfectly aware of what  _fun_  is. Battlestar Galactica marathons are  _fun_. Chanting for happiness is not. I also think you are under-representing your sense of seriousness about this. You have rearranged your living space for this 'meditation'." He gestured to illustrate this point.

"Sheldon, sweetie," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "How do we know something doesn't work unless we try it?"

"Exactly, but as I said, there have been no experiments that were able to substantiate your claims," he protested.

"We can do an experiment. Right now. For the sake of science!" She raised her eyebrows at him hopefully.

He grimaced. "You would be a horrible scientist." Still, he gingerly stepped around the candles and into the center of the meditation area, which was getting to be quite warm. It was a good thing she blew out those candles.

"All right, now, hold my hands."

"Have you washed them?" Sheldon asked squeamishly.

"Yes, I have," Penny said, beginning to feel irritated.

He crossed his arms, looking so much like a petulant child that she almost giggled. "I don't believe you."

She sighed. "All right, hand me my purse."

Sheldon reached behind him and produced the requested item. She pulled the cap off her little Bath and Body Works soap, poured an overgenerous amount on her hands, and scrubbed. "There, okay?"

He was silent, but when she took his hands he didn't resist. Penny was somehow surprised at how warm they felt—sure, she knew consciously that Sheldon was no robot, despite some of the guys' theories, but holding his hand was actually kind of pleasant. Huh.

"Aum Aem Hreem Kleem Chamundaya Yech..."

* * *

Sheldon Cooper, PhD, did not believe in magic, yet here he found himself, holding hands with his female neighbor, sitting on her undoubtedly germ-ridden floor, humming along to her "happiness chant". Something about the experience rather reminded him of his childhood, when his mother would forcibly hold his hands and pray, but Penny's voice was soothing and sweet. He could almost imagine that she was singing "Soft Kitty" instead of chanting, and though that would be ridiculous, seeing as he was in excellent health, it was a comforting thought nonetheless.

He seemed to fall into a trance, and it was only when Penny's voice grew scratchy, long after he had memorized the words to the chant, that he glanced over at the clock. "Good Lord!" he exclaimed, rushing to the door.

In reply, his companion only yawned. "Night, Sheldon."

Sheldon paused and turned. She looked so vulnerable now, not at all like her usual fierce and competitive self. "Good night, Penny."

He completed his nighttime ritual as usual, though considerably later, and retired to bed, thinking all the while about how he could possibly catch up on those forty-three minutes of sleep that he had lost. He then realized that in contemplating this, he had lost even more time, and had to recalculate how many minutes he had lost in total. He was wavering between sixty and sixty-one when he finally drifted off.

Sheldon rarely had disruptive dreams, unless his conscience was troubled. As it happened, his conscience was completely untroubled that night, and yet his dream was far from ordinary. It began wonderfully: he had taken the place of Spock, during his early Starfleet career as a science officer. Obviously, this meant being aboard the Enterprise while it was under the command of Captain Pike, an intriguing situation that had rarely appeared in his dreams.

He 'awoke' within the dream and exited his quarters, knowing instinctively that he was needed elsewhere. Continuing down the hall, he encountered no life-forms, and, following his instincts, entered a turbolift.

Something was wrong, he realized as soon as he entered the turbolift. The inside was not at all what it should be; instead, it resembled an old-fashioned elevator. He pressed the only button there was, and the elevator groaned upwards. After exactly forty-three seconds it stopped, doors creaking apart to reveal a large, circular ballroom. It seemed to have been doused in gold, for all the ornate hangings and trims; it was filled with dancing couples in exorbitant finery. Sheldon walked into the room, inhibitions high. He did not care for dancing, even in his dreams.

He wondered—ah, yes. A quick glance at himself confirmed that his Starfleet uniform had been transformed into a tuxedo. He sighed audibly, or at least it would have been audible, had not the orchestral music been over-loud. Another odd thing grabbed his attention: the whirling couples all appeared to be faceless. Sheldon cocked an eyebrow at this. His dreams were always exact in their details, if not realistic in their content. The excellent computer that was his mind would stand for no less, so why did the members of this scene lack faces?

The next few moments were a little fuzzy, but somehow he ended up with a woman in his arms. Glancing around, he realized that she did have a face, but for some reason, when he tried to look at it directly, it faded and his eyes were forced to redirect themselves. He avoided this inconvenience by keeping his eyes over her head, which was the more natural position. After a few minutes of this torture, the faceless woman let him go, and he discovered himself in the arms of...Leslie Winkle?

She didn't seem to recognize him, but he quickly availed himself of her, dashing to the next single woman and taking her up. Sheldon was now in the center of the floor, and the mess of people around was dizzying. He suddenly remembered that he never danced, but evidently this was not an issue with the dream-logic in place. Expecting another faceless, he looked down at his dancing partner.

It was Penny. She smiled at him for a moment, until recognition darkened her bright eyes. "Sheldon? What are you doing here?"

"Trust me, I know as little as you," he replied stiffly, then thought to add: "In this situation, that is."

He couldn't help but notice that she looked unusually beautiful. Penny was an attractive woman, he'd always known that, but the shade of her dress complemented her eyes, hair, and skin tone, enhancing her beauty. Her hair was also pulled up, exposing a lovely neck. She was obviously the belle of the ball, although in a crowd of women with faces impossible to really see, he supposed she had to be.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" Her eyes were clouded.

Sheldon started slightly. Such self-awareness of others in his dream was unusual. Carefully, he nodded. They were still dancing, he noted, and it seemed to take no effort. Penny's expression was difficult to read as she looked at him.

"Why would I dream about dancing with you?" she mused as he found himself dipping her. Though they were moving, they seemed to stay in the center of the dance floor; it was possible that the dream actually changed the room to fit them.

He frowned at her. "Penny, this is my dream, although I suppose I could ask that same question."

"I think I'd know if it was your dream," she scoffed. "Besides, why would you dream about something like this?"

"Why would _you_?" Sheldon said.

"I watched a Fred Astaire movie last night," Penny mumbled in reply, reddening a little.

"I never watch movies about dance, but I have been led to believe that those are the 'classics'. Congratulations, Penny. You are finally showing appreciation for culture." He gave her a genuine smile; she spun back into his arms.

"You know, for somebody who doesn't dance, you sure are burning up this floor."

"It's only a dream," he said simply.

Her eyes darkened again. No more words were exchanged between them, but they whirled on as the string quartet played, dancing until the break of dawn.


	2. In Which Science is Unexpectedly Attractive

Penny awoke with a start. "That was some dream," she muttered to herself, unable to stop herself from recalling every moment. How  _real_  everything had felt. His warm hands, the strings, the dancing, the laughing, the fabric of her dress against her skin. Blue eyes burning into her own.

She threw the covers off. Why had she dreamed of dancing with Sheldon? Sheldon, of all people? Sometimes she really believed that he was crazy, and one day, he would drive her there with him. The dream had been perfectly logical (God, she was even starting to sound like him) until he had showed up. In a tuxedo, no less! And danced her off into the sunrise like this happened every day.

On the other hand, she'd slept wonderfully. Maybe the chanting had helped, after all.

That had to be it. The chanting, her seeing Sheldon unexpectedly, holding his hands while breathing in the magic-candle-smoke, all of this had corrupted her brain. Penny had just been confused, and now it was morning and it was all behind her. Now it was Monday morning, in fact, and she was thanking her lucky stars that she didn't work the morning shift today.

Upon stumbling into the kitchen, Penny discovered something much more unpleasant: she was out of coffee. "Looks like it's time to pay a visit to the boys, hmm?" Talking to herself, again. Sheldon really had driven her off the deep end.

She sauntered across the hallway and tried the door. Unlocked; they must not have left for work yet. Penny tossed her hair over one shoulder, making a mental note to wash it before going to work. She went about making coffee as usual, figuring there was no reason to go back to her own apartment when 4A often proved more interesting. Then she heard a sound so surprising that she couldn't help it if she froze.

Somebody was humming. It wasn't quite as shocking as if she'd heard whistling in a Sheldon-dominated apartment, but...humming was pretty darn close. She wondered if Leonard had gotten some the night before, but there was no sign of a woman's presence, and Sheldon hadn't mentioned any "coital activities" when he had come over to her apartment. Unless, maybe, returning the jacket was just an excuse to get out of the apartment...

Leonard emerged from the bathroom, his face lighting up as he caught her eye. "Penny! Morning! You...must have run out of coffee again," he said. She nodded in confirmation, grabbing a mug for her coffee. As she went for it, she realized that the humming was still going on, and it obviously wasn't coming from Leonard.

Penny whipped around. "Is...is that Sheldon humming?" she asked, trying to sound somewhat casual, but oh my God, if Sheldon was humming some little...was that Broadway?

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, no clue what that's about. I'm not complaining, though. He's been so busy humming, he's barely talked all morning." Leonard smiled at this.

Her breath caught as she suddenly remembered her dream. She wasn't sure that she wanted to see Sheldon after that dream, and it wasn't even dirty. Maybe it was worse than that—it was so freakin'  _romantic_. They had danced until daybreak, in some big fancy ballroom, like the ending of some cheesy movie that definitely wasn't her life.

Like he knew exactly when he was unwanted, Sheldon entered the room, still humming very quietly. "Good morning, Penny," he said in a tone that was almost pleasant. Did his eyes linger on hers for just a second longer than usual, or was she just being paranoid?

She didn't even reply, just smiled and mumbled something about needing to get ready for work before making a speedy exit from 4A.

Showers always calmed her down, and boy, did she need it that morning. The hot water across her back felt wonderful, like she was becoming a whole new person. She smiled through the water as she lathered up her hair. Maybe the chant really did work; Sheldon had chanted with her, kinda, and here he was, humming! She'd done a lot more chanting than he had, so something really miraculous had to happen to her today. A casting agent coming in, stunned by her looks and obvious talent, giving her an awesome role in some new movie that would go on to be a hit—she drifted off into fantasy.

Penny stayed in that fantasy for most of the day. It was easier than looking at how her day  _really_ was (pretty crappy) or worse, letting her mind drift back to that bizarre dream. It was actually a little better than drinking, although she did have a little just to get her through the night. She nearly drifted off during a rerun of "America's Next Top Model" before finally giving in and heading to bed.

The next thing she knew, she was standing on a stage, smiling down at the people around her. There was Johnny Depp, applauding enthusiastically. He had admitted to being a bit of a fanboy about her, and who could blame him? Emma Stone and Amy Adams were shouting and freaking out—her besties were  _amazing_. The room grew darker as she began to give her speech, but too late she realized that it wasn't a speech; she was only repeating "pulchritude, pulchritude, pulchritude". The eyes of the audience were red now, and, as one, they uttered a guttural growl.

She stared at her hand as the statue crumbled away, trying to strangle the "no" that was dying to escape from her lips. Everything seemed to be complete blackness.

Penny squinted. There, in the distance, floating ever nearer—a structure like none she had seen before, she was sure, but it looked somehow familiar. Before she could blink, she was  _inside_  of it, gazing up at huge spheres and beams. "What is this?" she said, furrowing her brow, feeling certain that it would be easier to tell if only she could be on the outside again.

"It's deoxyribonucleic acid, more commonly known as DNA," a grating voice said from somewhere to her right. "Specifically, two strands of your DNA interwoven in the typical double-helix style, as rendered by my mind."

She swore. Loudly. "Not again," she groaned. "Sheldon, why are you here?"

He was visible now, perched on one of the mega-sized beams. "I believe I should be directing that question to you, since this is my dream." He glared down at her. Penny returned the expression.

This standoff lasted for a minute before she sighed. "So, my DNA, huh?" she said, trying to have at least some semblance of excitement. She  _was_  an actress.

Sheldon sniffed. How he was able to make sucking snot back into his nose sound so condescending, she'd never know. "So it appears."

For the first time, she noticed what he was wearing. The clothes were in his usual style: loose pants, a T-shirt, and a layered long-sleeved shirt underneath. She was positive that this particular outfit was not in his real-life wardrobe, though. The pants were blindingly white and not quite as unflattering as the normal fare; his T-shirt had an image of the same structure they were currently inside, apparently her DNA. The long-sleeved shirt was striped, but not really noteworthy.

"So if this is your dream, why are you in  _my_ DNA? How do you even know it's mine?"

He appeared a little sheepish. "Even I cannot always decipher the workings of my subconscious mind. By the same token, I simply know instinctively that it is yours. It's certainly not  _mine_." He sniffed again, and she had a feeling she should have been insulted by some part of that.

Penny leaned back, resting her head against one of the large balls. It was a halfway decent pillow. "Well, I guess you can study to your little heart's content, then. I'm gonna sleep."

"Wait!" he protested. "You are operating under the incorrect assumption that this is your dream."

Her eyes were still open enough for her to tell that he was nearly  _pouting_. "Yeah, so?"

"Why would you sleep if you are already sleeping? Who knows what the consequences could be, if it's even possible?"

"I thought you said this was your dream," she said grumpily, squishing the ball between her arms.

Sheldon deigned not to reply, evidently. "This DNA," he said, gesturing around their surroundings, "is part of what makes you who you currently are. It shapes you in more ways than you can imagine. Can you honestly say that does not pique your interest?"

She hated it when Sheldon was right. "No," she admitted, sitting back up.

He smirked.

"Well, are you going to tell me about it or not?"

So it was that she found herself listening to Sheldon lecture her on the workings of her DNA and the chromosomes that contained it. Some of it she vaguely remembered from high school science, and he seemed unusually thrilled whenever she could answer any of his questions correctly. Penny realized it was, in a weird way, kind of endearing how excited he was about knowledge. Science did seem a lot more interesting when she was literally in the middle of it, but she had always preferred biology over physics.

To her surprise, morning came quickly. The nucleotides began to fade away, and she realized that she was waking up. Sheldon was looking at her with an almost sad expression, and she managed a smile. "Thank you, Sheldon," she said, actually meaning it.

* * *

Sheldon was troubled, so troubled that he was not even considering his name with "Dr." in front of it or "PhD" behind. These recurring dreams of Penny were beginning to weigh on him. He had never believed in the meanings of dreams, but surely his subconscious had to be signalling something to him with this—but  _what_? He hated puzzles when he was unable to solve them.

He considered himself nothing if not a master of his own emotions, so he directed this frustrated energy into his work. He made pages of notes for his upcoming paper, erased his whiteboard dozens of times, and scared several interns with his intensity. Only in passing did he recall last night's "Adventures Inside Penny's DNA", as it would have been called had it been a children's show on PBS.

It was a Tuesday; Cheeseburger Night. Sheldon felt an odd sensation in his stomach when he realized that meant he would have to see Penny. He considered this wording—"have to" see Penny. He admitted that, while they had showed signs of a relationship close to enmity during the beginning stages of their friendship, he had since begun to feel quite affectionate toward her. Rationally, he knew that he cared for her deeply, and that even when she was being illogical (in that uniquely feminine manner of hers), he was still willing to do whatever possible to restore her to happiness.

So why did this emotional reaction resemble dread? Another unsolved puzzle, perhaps connected to the first. He hoped that the night's interaction with Penny would provide him with an opportunity to gather data.

When she came to take his order that night, something in her eyes was different. Sheldon was no expert on the subtleties of facial expression, but this difference filled him with concern. He had learned enough about Penny, however, to understand that she would prefer him to keep silent until they were alone, so he made no comment.

"Looking stunning, Penny," Wolowitz said, with an exaggerated wink. "I wish I were adenine because then I could get paired with U."

"Oh, sweetie, it takes more than a double bond of hydrogen to hold onto a girl like me," Penny replied. Sheldon was glad to see the light return to her eyes, but her words brought the dream back to the forefront of his mind. She often surprised him, but he never suspected that she had a knowledge of RNA. While last night's dream had taken place within her DNA, they had covered RNA briefly during the...lesson, he supposed it should be called.

Her eyes cut to his, and that peculiar stomach-dropping sensation became much, much worse. A look passed over her face, very quickly. Sheldon didn't know the meaning, but it resembled her expression when she caught on to something he was "up to", as she so charmingly phrased it.

The rest of dinner was pleasant, though uneventful. He found it difficult to concentrate on the perfectly complementary flavors of his Tuesday cheeseburger; her expression would not leave his mind's eye. He resolved to question her on its meaning.

She returned to the apartment approximately forty-five minutes after Leonard and himself. He crossed the hallway and performed his trademark triple-knock on her door. Penny let him in, the same curious expression on her face as before. Her blonde hair hung loose, and she had changed from her uniform into her pajamas.

Her couch had been returned to its original placement; he sat down upon it, feeling almost nervous. She spoke before he had a chance to ask about her previous emotions.

"All right, how are you doing it?" his neighbor asked, raising a single eyebrow and crossing her bare arms.

Sheldon scowled. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific if you expect me to understand."

"The dreams, Sheldon," Penny said, her tone suggesting irritation.

He sighed deeply. So what he feared had come to pass. "You are referring to the DNA—"

"—and the ballroom, yes," she interrupted, displaying her lack of basic human regard. "I knew it! I knew that there was no way I was making all of that up. You were in my dream! Really in it!"

"No, I believe that you were in  _my_  dreams. Note the plural." He wondered what the odds were that she would fix him cocoa if he asked, but dismissed the thought. More important things were at hand, as much as he longed for the delicious drink.

"Whatever, the point is, it's kind of freaky."

They exchanged a long look.

"I concede that point, you are correct in identifying its freaky-ness. However, as I do not know what's causing this, I also do not know how to end it."

Penny bit her lip. When she released it, it appeared larger and more moist than usual; this was natural, of course, but it intrigued him for some reason. He forced his eyes back up to meet hers. "Couldn't you fix this with, you know,  _science_?"

"We could run an experiment," Sheldon said, nodding slowly.

"What would that involve, exactly? I mean, in this situation. You can't exactly take this to a laboratory." She giggled, suddenly. "A la _bor_ atory."

"What?"

"Nothing. What will we do?"

He had already considered this, but he took an extra moment for dramatic effect. "Well, I think the best plan of action at this time would be to observe the dream state more intensely, control the conditions, as it were. Two nights ago, I was dreaming about something different when your dream 'took over' mine, assuming that you began with the ballroom scene?"

She nodded. "And last night, I was at the Oscars before I ended up in my DNA."

"The Academy Awards? How interesting. What year?"

"I think it was supposed to be the future. I won...something."

Sheldon smiled, relishing the thrill of experimenting in a hitherto unknown setting. "Then it's simple! We pick a location we both know, and dream about that. We will maximize our time within the shared dream, giving us more time to study its properties,  _and_  we will control for one mind 'taking over' the other."

Penny had oriented her body toward him fully, which he believed was an indication of her interest in what he was saying. "Sheldon, I can't just pick what to dream about."

"No," he said, "but I believe that the odds will be in our favor if we both meditate on the place beforehand. You dreamed about dancing after watching a movie on that subject, because your subconscious was previously primed."

She nodded. "Okay, so, where do you suggest?"

He cocked his head. "The laundry room."

"Should I even ask why?"

"It is a place well known to both of us, yet devoid of emotional connections, unlike our respective apartments. It is relatively spare, so the details should be perfected in the dream without causing too much mental strain. Additionally—"

Penny held up her hand. "I wasn't asking why."

"Oh." He frowned. "You really need to improve your conversational clarity."

She tapped her fingers against her face. "All right, meditate on the laundry room. I can do that."

"Be very thorough, Penny. If the details do not agree, the dream may lose its stability," he said seriously.

She stood up; evidently, the conversation was over. She began to walk toward her refrigerator. "What are you doing?" he asked with mild alarm as she opened the door.

"Getting a drink. You want one?" Penny held up the bottle.

Sheldon was appalled. "You can't consume  _alcohol_  tonight, Penny!"

"Why not, exactly?" Her hair was falling in her eyes.

"We cannot have you intoxicated during the experiment." He folded his arms.

"I'm not going to be intoxicated, it's just one—fine, okay, I won't drink."

He considered his odds. "While you're over there, would you fix me some cocoa?"

"Good night, Sheldon," she said forcefully.

With a frustrated groan, he returned to 4A. Perhaps he could start preliminary calculations and draft his hypothesis before meditation. This was going to be a fun experiment, indeed.


	3. In Which Thoughts are Wont To Wander

Penny glanced around the laundry room, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. She carried a laundry basket, but it was empty; she tried the door, but it was locked. Worst of all, she couldn't even remember coming down to the laundry room at all. "This doesn't make any sense."

 _Knock knock knock_. "Penny."

That voice, the source of so much irritation, rang through the silence. Something itched in the back of her brain, something important that she knew she should remember, but it was just beyond her. It was like when she would wake up to her phone going off, but it was just out of reach. She would inevitably fell out of bed trying to grab it.

 _Knock knock knock_. "Penny."

"It's locked, Sheldon!" she called back.

 _Knock knock knock_. "Penny."

She tried the door again, but this time it swung open easily. Sheldon strode in, glaring at her. "What possessed you to lock the door?"

"I didn't lock the door," she said, feeling anxious.

"You most certainly did. That was not a detail I included in  _my_ version of the dream, which is why you had to let me in." He huffed, and she rolled her eyes. He could be such a crotchety old man sometimes.

Oh.  _Dream_. That's what she'd been forgetting. "So," she said awkwardly. She had no idea what kind of plans Sheldon had in store, and she was almost starting to regret asking for his help. How perfectly ironic; now she's the socially awkward one, and Sheldon's in control. That was weird, but actually kind of hot.

Did she really just think that?

She noticed for the first time that he held a clipboard in his hand. At some point, she must have dropped the laundry basket; she lifted herself onto the nearest dryer, watching him as he hummed to himself.

"All right, trial one," he said finally, setting the clipboard on a washer. "Try to make something appear."

"Um...okay." Penny closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of a newborn kitten. She could use some more cute in her day—well, night. She opened her eyes again, to see a thoughtful Sheldon in an otherwise empty laundry room. She grimaced. "No dice."

"Hmm." He marked something on the clipboard. "All righty. This time, keep your eyes open." His tone was bright and cheery, and, not for the first time, she realized just how much he loved science.

Keeping her eyes open (he was watching her like a hawk), she imagined new Jimmy Choos on her feet. The only thing she succeeded in doing was discovering a new hole in her ratty old sneakers. Sheldon made another mark and pursed his lips. "Penny, this time—"

"Why don't you try?" she said, smiling. He looked taken aback, but nodded. His eyes closed for a minute, but he appeared unsurprised when nothing changed. He then concentrated at the wall, with similar results. More notes were written.

"Try to take possession of my body," he said, setting the clipboard aside.

Penny gaped at him. "Sweetie, I don't think that came out quite right." She fought the urge to giggle.

Sheldon glowered. "This is not the time for your crude innuendo. We need to know if we are truly beings of free will within this dream world, or if we can consciously influence each others' actions."

She took a deep breath and counted to seventeen before replying, a holdover from her days of endless acting classes back in high school. They had always started with deep breathing, and she had found it to be a useful coping mechanism whenever the creepy guy in sound crew would hit on her. "Okay, I'll try. Eyes open or closed?"

"Why don't we try closed, first?" he said pleasantly. Experiments really did seem to make him giddy.

So she tried it both ways; so did he. Penny expected that at any moment he would slump down, disappointed, but with every successive test his smile became wider, until he  _almost_  resembled a normal human being.

"Within the shared dream universe, as in the 'real world', we have full possession of our free will. We cannot change our surroundings consciously, although I have reason to believe that we may be able to unconsciously morph the objects and situations around us." He looked up at her, and she tried her best to feel as excited as he obviously was.

"What reason would that be?"

Sheldon looked down. He was embarrassed, she realized. "When we were dancing, we were always in the exact center of the floor, an impossibility in the physical world considering the range of movement we performed. The room shifted position with us."

"We're making these dreams together," Penny said suddenly, putting the pieces together. "That was my dream, but there's no way that I would have noticed the exact center of the room."

He nodded. "My conclusions exactly. We are not simply invading one another's dreams—we are actually creating a shared world within our minds."

She bit her lip, noticing vaguely how his eyes cut down as she did so. "Does that mean you actually wanted to dance with me?"

Sheldon looked away. She smirked; obviously, he'd hoped that she wouldn't be bright enough to figure that out. "Well, you must have desired to learn more about your DNA, by that logic."

Penny might not have been beautiful-mind kind of brilliant like he was, but she had common sense enough. "I must have, because we can't influence each other."

"Consciously," he added.

"Sheldon, if we could influence each other at all, you wouldn't be getting on my nerves so much right now," she said through her teeth.

He clasped his hands together. "Very well, we will operate under the assumption that our free will is complete and total, and that we cannot influence each other, consciously or unconsciously, unless we discover evidence to the contrary. Happy now, Miss Snarky-pants?"

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly. "Hey, what about our clothes?" she wondered.

"What about them?" Sheldon looked puzzled.

"When we danced...you wore a tux. It didn't really look like something you would have picked for yourself."

"Ah, yes. I believe that was a result of the setting; part of the shared dream environment. It was suitable attire for the ball, so my mind dressed my illusory body accordingly. I assume that your clothes have been chosen in the same manner, explaining our normal appearance tonight. This particular reality is not so different from our own."

Penny swung her feet. "So what do we do now, Mr. Scientist? Laundry?"

"Don't be absurd," he said harshly. "It's still Tuesday night. As for your first question, we could physically explore our environment. Theoretically, our minds should build the world as we encounter it; by leaving the laundry room, we should be able to walk up the stairs to our apartments as we would do in the 'real' world." Sheldon was delighted at the prospect, judging by his expression.

They walked up all the stairs, but when they reached the fourth-floor hallway, Sheldon paused. "Which apartment should we enter?"

Penny raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "You're asking me?". Aloud, she said, "I don't have my key."

"Darn. Our apartment it is, then." He unlocked the door speedily. Penny couldn't help but feel a little surprised when the apartment was completely vacant.

"Aww, nobody's here," she said, rather sadly. Sheldon quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Penny, if anybody else  _was_  here, you do realize that they would be constructs of your mind, not real people?" He crossed over to the DVD collection, running a long finger along the titles, as if he hadn't committed them all to memory.

"I know that, Sheldon. It's just kind of depressing how empty it is in here."

"I prefer to think of it as uncluttered," he replied lightly, slipping a disc from its case. "Why hello there, old friend!"

She watched as he turned on the electronics and inserted the disc. "Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but what the hell are you doing? I thought we were supposed to be, you know, experimenting, not watching..."

"Doctor Who," he finished for her. "This is part of the experiment. According to my theory— _our_  theory, we are creating this reality as a mutual effort. You have never seen this episode, therefore it will be up to my eidetic memory to reconstruct it for your viewing pleasure."

Penny admitted mentally that the idea was interesting, but she wasn't overly fond of what she'd seen of the show. "Couldn't you pick something more...you know, not boring?"

"I chose the two-parter 'The Impossible Planet/Satan Pit'." He pronounced the slash in the middle; she tried not to giggle. "While it is perhaps not as overtly romantic as those godawful 'chick flicks' you so adore, it should prove mildly entertaining for you at the least."

"Oh." That was...almost considerate, especially for Sheldon. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said primly, taking his place at 0,0,0,0.

She did end up enjoying the two-parter, so much so that she made him promise to watch more of the series with her in real life. They ordered non-existent Chinese takeout and she ended up shedding a couple of tears. The most interesting event of the evening, though she did not realize it at the time, happened when, returning to her seat with a glass of water, she sat a little closer to Sheldon than she regularly did. The television blinked out momentarily, which confused her, but she didn't really care. Maybe it was part of the dream logic shutting down. It was almost morning; she felt it somewhere deep within her. The only thing that really surprised her about the entire circumstance was that her friend didn't dwell on the short-out. She shrugged, and the menu screen faded into reality.

* * *

Sheldon awoke with the most peculiar sense of calm. He was suddenly reminded of the idiom "like something out of a dream"—amusing how appropriate the meaning of that phrase was for the previous night. Watching Doctor Who (or rather, his memory's perfect recreation of Doctor Who) with Penny, eating Chinese food, even though it was not Friday; how could a simple combination of these factors prove so wonderful?

He wrote a few equations on his notepad, but they were altogether unsatisfactory. He would have to wait until he had use of the whiteboard, and it would probably be wise for him to use it when Leonard was not present. Sheldon was a terrible liar, after all, and this dream experiment was, to put it quite simply, none of his roommate's business.

"Good morning," Leonard said, in a tone that suggested either surprise or disgust—context suggested surprise. "You seem awfully chipper. New experiment in the works?"

"Actually, yes," Sheldon replied, pleased that Leonard had given him an easy way out without forcing him to resort to untruths.

Work was predominantly uneventful; Sheldon spent the time crafting a perfectly-worded summary of the evidence collected in the dream scenario thus far. Even browsing the new comics felt surreal and unimportant, as his thoughts kept returning to new theories, trials, and controls. He wondered suddenly if Penny considered these things, as well. Waitressing was only menial labor, and he knew that she would have to occupy her mind with something more worthwhile than simple food orders.

Did her thoughts wander to him, at times? Of course, they must; he was an important part of her life. Something strange bubbled in his abdomen at this realization.

When Penny arrived for Halo night, she seemed somehow deeper to him. Perhaps "deeper" was inaccurate; "sharper" might be more true. It was as if she had gone from a two-dimensional figure to a three-dimensional object, from a circle to a sphere. This sense was disconcerting, but not unpleasant. His cognitive capacities so distracted from their aim, Sheldon found himself losing terribly to his neighbor.

"Well, I think that answers any question about who would be the best supersoldier," Penny said smugly, setting down her controller with glee. She yawned. "All right, I guess I'm going to make it an early night."

"Unlikely," Sheldon muttered. "Penny, we are all aware that Wednesday night is your 'So You Think You Can Dance' night."

"We are?" Leonard said, sounding, as usual, dreadfully lost.

Sheldon turned to look at him. "Why else did you suppose Penny retired early each and every Wednesday night? You honestly chalked that up to...to  _coincidence?_ No wonder your research proves to be a consistent failure."

"Are you telling us that you've memorized Penny's schedule?" Howard said slowly. Sheldon resisted the urge to apply his palm to his face—these people were considered his peers!

"You say that as if it's a Herculean task. She keeps no rigid schedule, but Wednesdays are 'So You Think You Can Dance' night, Sundays she always eats chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream, and on Friday nights she prefers to go out for a night of dancing, if her work schedule allows."

As if they had a hive mind, the entire room blinked at him in silent unison.

"Well, anyway," Penny said after 13.4 seconds (although, oddly, it felt like longer). "I should go...watch my show."

He leaped up immediately. "And I will accompany you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Bizarrely, he thought about what his mother would say were she there ("you keep makin' faces like that, you'll get stuck that way!"). "I hardly need...accompanying."

"Nevertheless, I shall accompany you. You never know what danger could be lurking in these halls." Sheldon tried to appear as if he believed any of his own words, but he knew well that his skills in the art of deception left much to be desired.

"Okay," Penny said, another indecipherable look crossing over her pretty features. "Whatever."

Once they were in the safety zone on the other side of 4B's door, Sheldon let out a large, relieved sigh, and handed Penny a stack of papers. He relished the shocked look on her face when he did so. "What is all this?"

"A compilation of our current data, possible hypotheses...oh, there's a chart on dream stability. Some information from past sleep and dream research studies, most of it useless. I copied and pasted the parts that might be relevant, for your convenience." He realized that he was nearly bouncing up on his tiptoes, but it was impossible to refrain.

She flipped through the pages quickly, at a speed much faster than what Sheldon knew was her typical reading speed. "Sweetie, I have to  _work_. You remember that, right? Waitress? Cheesecake Factory? Your Tuesday cheeseburger?"

He nodded proudly. "Which is why I 'watered down' the content to a high school reading level and removed any details you considered extraneous. It should take much less time to read than even one of your trashy, over-romanticized novels."

Penny frowned. "I don't read romance novels, Sheldon."

"That's irrelevant. Also, your mention of your workplace brings me to my next point, the location for tonight's dream experiment."

She smiled, although why she did this, he couldn't fathom. "Are you saying that you want to dream about the Cheesecake Factory?"

"Precisely," Sheldon said, feeling pleased. "We are both familiar with the interior and exterior of the building, as well as the objects and situations that may be found therein. It is an entirely reasonable choice, and it should give us a chance to test a few new ideas of mine." He smiled, showing his teeth, in a gesture of goodwill; judging by her expression, Penny did not translate the expression correctly.

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," she mumbled.

"Of course it does, good night." He turned to leave. After all, he still had company, and as the nucleus of his friendship atom, his presence was, no doubt, already missed.

"Sheldon?"

The company could wait. Around he turned again. "Yes?"

He dearly wished that he better understood the meaning of the face Penny was making. Perhaps there was a guide on YouTube for interpreting subtle female expressions. "What was all that, back there?" she asked. "About my schedule, I mean."

"Was I incorrect in any way?" he said, making it clear that he doubted this.

"No, it was just...I don't know, it was kind of weird. How much attention you pay to stuff like that, about me."

His skin was beginning to feel quite warm. Sheldon wondered vaguely if he had contracted a disease. "It's not just about you, Penny. For example, I am well acquainted with Leonard's schedule."

"You live with him," she pointed out.

"I fail to see how that is relevant.'

"Fine. How 'well-acquainted' are you with, say, Raj's schedule?" Penny crossed her arms.

"Not very, but as we've discussed before, Raj is the disposable member of my circle of friends," he said.

"Howard, then."

Sheldon snorted. "Howard doesn't even have a PhD."

"Neither do I."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I don't know, it just is!" Sheldon glared at her. "Good night." He snapped his body around resolutely and returned to his apartment, where pleasant dreams should await him.


	4. In Which Flight is the Key

It was just another ordinary day at work. The customers were entirely forgettable; Penny was bored, moving from table to table, humming some little radio ditty.

She remembered suddenly that it was Tuesday, and groaned. What crazy demands would Sheldon make tonight? Sometimes, when she thought about it, she was really amazed that she hadn't been fired yet. Still, for every "serious talk" Sheldon had with her manager, there was a commendation to balance it out. She was the only one he trusted with his food, after all. She was actually a little bit proud of that, even as she could hear his voice ringing in her head: "Yes, Penny, but with great power comes great responsibility".

He would then proceed to lecture her on how, originally, the phrase was slightly different, and not spoken by Peter Parker's Uncle Ben at all. Eventually he would get on a long track about the evolution of and misuse of phrases, and it would be nearly impossible to make him shut up.

Penny grinned. She knew him far too well.

"Penny?"

She turned; there, sitting at the "usual table" was Leonard. Just Leonard, looking like his usual cross between a dork and a hipster in an indecipherable T-shirt and butt-ugly jacket. She frowned and walked over to him. "Where's everybody else?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Howard's mom dragged him to some kind of family thing and Raj went with him."

Penny smiled. "And Sheldon?"

"Sheldon's with me," he said, ducking his head in the way that he always did when he was confused.

She craned her neck. With his height, it would be easy to find Sheldon if he was anywhere in the restaurant, but it was all too clear that he wasn't. "Uh, no he's not."

Leonard blinked several times and turned. "Oh, there he is now."

Sure enough, there he was then, entering the restaurant, followed by...another Leonard. Sheldon strode over to them, other Leonard following.

"Penny, we're in grave danger, we need to leave," he said seriously. His Leonard was shifting weight from foot to foot, as if he expected an attack at any second.

Penny took a moment. "Sheldon, this is a dream, isn't it?"

"Obviously," he replied, giving her a condescending look. "That does not change the fact that we are in grave danger."

The two Leonards stared at each other. Penny was suddenly afraid that they would explode, and something about Sheldon's expression told her that this fear was not unfounded.

"Oh, this was not part of the plan," he muttered. "Penny, we need to run." In a move so fluid she suspected it was only instinct, he reached out, grabbed her hand, and began to jog awkwardly away.

Her feet stumbled as she tried to keep up. "Damn your long legs," she said to Sheldon, who didn't appear to hear her.

A loud humming was sounding behind them, so loud that he had to yell to make himself heard. "You see, the dream logic is collapsing. I did consider what measures we would have to take for this to occur, although I did _not_ expect for us to find out so soon."

"Why is it collapsing?" she said, kicking off her shoes as she ran. Penny was a Nebraska girl, born and raised, and she knew that no matter how adorable her shoes could be, barefoot running was a  _lot_  better than staggering around in heels.

"We both dreamed about a person with whom we are well acquainted—Leonard, my roommate and your previous coital partner. We had also conceived different situations, whether consciously or unconsciously, to justify the other's presence. The two Leonards could not reconcile themselves, evidently, and the stability of the dream was jeopardized. May I add: it is  _not_  Tuesday, Penny."

She ignored his last comment. "So what's going to happen now?"

"I don't know," Sheldon said, smiling widely. He had a cute smile, she reflected, but it looked so out of place on his face that it was nearly scary.

Penny looked at him, really looked at him for a moment. A realization hit her, so strong and unlikely that she almost gasped.

"Sheldon, I think we're superheroes."

He looked down at his chest, emblazoned with a large blue S. Glancing around at his surroundings, he muttered, "It appears that we are traveling just below the speed of sound."

"How is that possible?"

"Well, theoretically," he began. She shook her head.

"Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

"The laws of physics always matter," Sheldon objected.

"Do you think we can fly?" Penny asked, excited. Her outfit was pretty cute: a teeny-tiny green miniskirt, knee-high white boots, and a snug tank top (with a giant P, naturally). Her crime fighting partner glanced at her, his odd crystalline headgear shining in the light of the explosions that followed them.

"This plot has no cohesion, so most likely, yes."

"Great," she said. They had stopped running, but their hands were still linked. His eyes were on hers, as if unsure of the proper social protocol. She wondered if she should tell him that there wasn't exactly a pre-established plan for preparing to fly in a shared dream state with your neighbor.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his breath coming quickly and his voice low. Of course, Sheldon nearly worshipped superheroes. If they could really fly (even if not in the "physical reality" as he would call it), it would be like he had joined their ranks.

Penny nodded. Night was falling around them; the sky was bleeding into a black vision. She concentrated.

After a minute, she was about to sigh and tell Sheldon it didn't work, when she felt her feet slowly lift off the ground. She peeked at him; his face was serene, but focused.

"You can fly, Sheldon," she said breathily.

"Yes," he replied. They were up a few feet now. "I expected to be able to, as you were the one who possessed the power of super speed." He sounded calm, but she heard the excited note in his voice. She hid a smile.

If this had been a real dream—a natural one, whatever—she would have wondered what this meant, to dream about flying through the sky with him.

* * *

Sheldon looked at his companion. She seemed much more than that, in this moment, as they gazed down at the streets of Pasadena. Her eyes were bright, so bright as to be compared to a supernova. Her lips were slightly parted. Penny was captivating, he thought for not the first time.

She shifted her arm, and he wondered if it was beginning to become sore. He felt as if her weight on his body was completely insignificant, and he suspected that the superhero persona he had adopted was that of Superman. Thus, he made the logical offer.

"Penny, would you like for me to carry you?"

Her expression suggested surprise, which was mildly befuddling. After all, surely even she had made the connection and realized that flight was most likely not his only skill.

"Um," she said concisely.

Sheldon sighed. It was at times like these when a man had to take initiative. Quickly, he slipped an arm under her legs, gripped her shoulders, and moved her into his arms. He tried to ignore the sensation of her bare skin beneath his fingertips.

"You're carrying me bridal-style," Penny said.

He looked at her. Her face was very close to his, but he assumed that as they were not in actual physical bodies, there was no danger of infection. "This is the way that Superman carries Lois Lane," he replied, somewhat stiffly. Even with the removal of her viral and bacterial risks, being this close to Penny was somewhat nervewracking.

"I'm not Lois Lane."

She had such a penchant for stating the obvious. His fingers were tingling; perhaps he was feeling the difference between human and Kryptonian biology. "But I am obviously some version of Superman."

Penny looked at him. "Okay, I'll humor you," she said, settling further into his arms. He wanted to reply, but for once, he had no words.

They flew on. Sometimes they would converse merrily, other times they were so still and silent that they both seemed to sleep. For his part, Sheldon Cooper spent a great portion of his night wondering if this pleasant thermal radiation, sourced in his chest, was part of the Superman lore.

He awoke gently, smile still in place. His thoughts were scattered when he woke, which was unusual for him; it took him the better part of a minute to recall why Penny was no longer in his arms. Her warmth had been soothing, and for one of the first times in his life, he genuinely missed the feeling of her touch.

He was so preoccupied with these unusual thoughts that he poured himself a bowl of cereal before he remembered that it was Scrambled Eggs Day. "Oh well," he murmured to himself. "It is Anything Can Happen Thursday, after all."

When Leonard came in, he frowned. "Isn't it Scrambled Eggs Day?"

"Anything Can Happen Thursday," was Sheldon's reply, but he irrationally wanted to add something about flying with Penny. Ridiculous, as that was, while exhilarating, entirely irrelevant to this conversation.

The whole day, Sheldon found himself with an oddly pleasing sense of disquiet, as though some wonderful surprise would leap out at him from a corner. He used the phrase metaphorically, of course, as there were very few corners that he encountered on a daily basis.

Then it happened. At approximately (exactly) 4:42, his phone rang. "Who could this be?" he said aloud. There was no point imprisoning his thoughts within his mind when his office space was devoid of other humans.

 _Penny,_  the caller ID screamed silently.

_Penny._

_Penny_.

Sheldon picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey Sheldon, I know you're at work, don't mean to bother you—I mean, I'm at work too, but I'm on break. Do physicists get breaks? You take breaks whenever you want, so I guess I shouldn't apologize. Um...anyway, I know what I want to do for the next dream!"

Her incoherent rambling was somehow endearing. He hid a smile, although there was nobody to see it. "Well, go on."

Breathlessly, she said, "Age of Conan."

A sudden vision of Cheeto-haired Penny infested his mind. "What would be the scientific value of this experiment?"

She had obviously not anticipated this question. She waffled a bit, told him how fun it would be. Then she brought out the big guns.

"Come on, Sheldon, it's Anything Can Happen Thursday."

Darn. She had him there. "You finally put it on your calendar," he said, a bit pleased.

She giggled. "A matter of survival. Should I stop by for dinner tonight?"

Sheldon did not even pause to consider, and later he had to struggle not to occupy his mind on why, exactly, he never considered when it came to Penny. "You bet your boots," he replied whimsically.

"What'll we have? What'll we watch? Ooh, you promised more Doctor Who," she said enthusiastically.

"Doctor Who is acceptable. We'll start you from the first season of the 2005 reboot, to ease you back into the story. As for the food, why don't you pick up something?"

"Sure, no problem. What do you want me to get?" Sometimes he wondered how she could be so perky.

He hesitated, then said, "Whatever you like."

There was silence.

"Within reason, of course," he added hastily. "For example, you must include a lactose-free option for Leonard."

"You're asking me to choose your food?" Penny sounded nearly incredulous. He puzzled at this; she had taken his order for years, why should this be any different? He decided to resort to her answer.

"It  _is_  Anything Can Happen Thursday."

"Right, right. Okay. I better go. Love ya! Bye!"

Sheldon was left holding the phone, and facing a most irrational query. "Why did she say that she loves me?"

A dozen sheets of equations later and he still lacked an answer.


	5. In Which A Grave Mistake Is Made

Queen Penelope was merciless. Beautiful, yet terrible; her eyes as bright as the break of day, her skin as pure as the clear waters, her lips as red as the blood of her enemies. She was the Lady of Vengeance, the Sword of Conquest, the Rapture of Might.

For once, Penny had not lost herself to the dream. She know who she was, and she  _gloried_  in it. In childhood, she'd been a tomboy; in adolescence, she'd turned to uber-femininity. Finally, in a world that was not her own, she found the perfection fusion of the two.

She was still searching for Sheldor. He seemed to have found balance here as well: use of his brilliant mind for spells and his dedication to attain a high level of strength. A fierce Conqueror, as dangerous as a two-headed cheetah. The Caverns of Malice were dark, darker than they had seemed on her computer screen, and she could smell their thick musk.

A noise sounded around her. She spun, claymore at the ready, her breath coming in quick gasps. After a second, Sheldor emerged from the blackness, his rapier dripping with blood. Her face lit up.

"Sheldor!" she greeted, sending him a dazzling smile.

He didn't look up from cleaning his sword. For a second, she thought that he'd lost himself in the dream, that he did not remember her, but then it came, his quiet acknowledgement. "Penny."

"Queen Penelope," she corrected, slashing her sword through the air as if she would decapitate him for his insolence. He barely flinched.

"My apologies, Queen Penelope." Sheldon was giving her a strange look, and after a moment she realized it was an expression of amusement. He was trying to hide his smile.

"What is amusing, conqueror?" she said in her most regal tone. And Leonard thought her acting classes weren't worth the money.

He choked and stood taller. "Pen—my queen...when I first had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, I certainly did not expect that you would become so fond of RPing. I believe it is unusual for a woman of your social rank and beauty."

Penny felt herself flush slightly. She longed a bit for the days when she would have asked Sheldon what RPing was; now, she was the one trying to keep him from being OOC. "I suppose not," she said finally, having nothing else to say. She hoped a bit that he meant the comment about her beauty, and that it wasn't just something he thought Sheldor the Conqueror would say to a queen.

"You are full of surprises," he said, almost under his breath. She wondered who was speaking now: Sheldon or Sheldor, or if it even mattered.

They stood there for a moment. She didn't know if Sheldon sensed the awkward atmosphere (probably not), but it seemed to weigh more on her body than her chain mail did. She finally clapped her gloved hands together. "Well, those bosses aren't going to kill themselves!"

So they slew their way through Khitai. After that, somebody's brain apparently decided to start making up new junk, so that they ended up fighting through some distorted version of that big fort place from  _Lord of the Rings_  ("The Hornsburg at Helm's Deep, my queen," Sheldon had said irritably). At one point they were back to back, swords slashing and flashing in some kind of violent symphony. It was pretty great, thought Penny.

Then Fate stepped in. Penny slipped on one of the black stone steps; it turned out that blood and rain tended to make things rather slippery. After the initial fall, she began to roll, and too soon she found herself on the muddy ground. The clanking of armor signaled an enemy approach. She reached for her sword, but her hands grabbed only dirt. It was gone—still at the top of the stairs with Sheldon, most likely.

Another enemy was behind her; she felt his leer on her back. She scrambled into a sitting position, but her chain mail did not allow for enough free movement for her to attempt any sort of weaponless martial arts, if she had even known any.

The first warrior's dark eyes were on her, the rest of his face concealed behind a mask. Slowly, as if the moment was delicious, he held up his blade. Penny swallowed, feeling as if she might throw up then and there. The mighty Queen Penelope, vanquished by a fall. No honor in that death, and  _oh my God what would happen if she died in the dream_? She had read a book once that had said if you died in a dream, you died in real life, and that was why you never would hit the ground in those dreams where you seemed to fall forever. If she died here—

That thought was interrupted by a vocal battle cry from somewhere above her head. She twisted her aching neck and saw a dark shadow descending upon the warriors, in slow motion. She saw the enemy's eyes widen. She saw his blood mix with the dirt and the water. She smiled.

"Sheldor," she said, relishing the name, relishing the instant. He had a look of utter triumph about him; he looked as if he had been made for that scene, and her heart began to pound harder and louder.

He turned, the music swelling as he did so. This dream was becoming increasingly less realistic, but Penny couldn't find it in herself to mind. Her heart was in her ears, her blood was pumping...

If somebody had asked her later why she had kissed him then, she would have said it was the result of all that buildup between them lately. The tension. Maybe that had always been there, she wasn't sure. But with the dancing and the flying, him memorizing her schedule, watching Doctor Who together, him letting  _her_  pick the food...it all added up, and the answer to the equation was "kiss the living daylights out of Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper".

However, the real reason was because Penny was impulsive. She acted before she thought; she lived up to her big ol' five reputation. Queen Penelope took what was hers, and that was exactly her attitude toward Sheldon's lips.

For the first couple of Mississippis, he was stock still, as if his entire body was the same consistency of his armor. Then he softened, softened like a stick of butter stuck in the microwave. He was putty in her arms, and her toes began to tingle pleasantly.

And then, and then, and then Penny's brain shut off completely (and she was wholly Penny now, the dream was melting away) because  _he was kissing her back_. Barely, but there it was, the tentative push against her lips, and she wasn't sure, but she thought that maybe they started flying again.

* * *

Sheldor the Conqueror had his eyes closed, his lips pressed against those of his lady's in a chaste but passionate kiss. Their arms were wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. Their enemies lay slain at their feet.

Sheldon Cooper, on the other hand, did not kiss women (or actually, people at all), especially not his beautiful neighbor and best friend and  _dear Lord he was kissing Penny_. Suddenly, the physical pleasure of the moment was lost to him, as his brain filled with potential consequences. His entire way of life could be taken from him, she might never speak to him again,  _Leonard_  might never speak to him again (although he had no claim on the woman). This was a catastrophic moment, and, oddly enough, Sheldon barely wanted it to end.

What was the proper social protocol for ending a kiss? He searched his extremely large mental catalog. He had never read a scientific paper on the subject, nor viewed a documentary. Perhaps popular culture could aid him—no, nothing came to mind involving that, either.

He was, as the popular term went, "screwed".

Sheldon wriggled awkwardly, but that failed as well; Penny nearly latched on ever more tightly. He was aware of the act he had to perform, but felt somehow hesitant. It was not only the experience of the kiss that held it back, but their potentially altered paradigm. He did recall a great deal of pop culture centered on men or women sending "mixed signals" about whether they desired to mate, and she would probably interpret his reciprocation and then escape as such. This was an absurd hypothesis, however. Obviously, his escape was necessary so as to ensure the continuance of his routine, and the reciprocation...

Scientists could choose to ignore data, on occasion, and this was the perfect occasion for it. His reciprocation of her attentions did not currently matter, what mattered was taking action to end this situation. He reached deep within his mind and woke them up from the dream.

His consciousness was returned safely to his physical body, resting on his bed. For an instant, his still somewhat drowsy mind reminded him to disinfect, as he was dripping blood. A quick glance at his body reassured him that this was, in fact, part of the dream state, and had not affected his physical body. He breathed a brief sigh of relief before turning his thoughts to other matters.

Namely, the osculation between his mouth and Penny's. It had not been unpleasant; in fact, compared to the few other kisses he'd had in his life, it "blew them out of the water". Endorphins had flooded him, and even now he felt their buzz. Best of all, since there was no real physical contact involved, he had absolutely no worries about her "cooties", as she would call them.

He had ended the kiss for purely contractual reasons. Their friendship did not include kissing, and he had been led to believe that if a friendship did, it was generally termed a "friends-with-benefits" situation. These tended to be messy, and ended with at least one of the members sobbing at a bar. Sheldon disliked alcohol and crying, and desired to keep Penny in his life, not to lose her for some transient physical pleasure that would supposedly add to their friendship.

Sheldon heard stomping and the sound of a slamming door. Penny was coming for him. Belatedly, he realized that she might have taken his actions as a rejection. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," he said under his breath, eyes widening.

Penny burst through his door, all 57 kilograms of her. "What the  _hell_  was that about, Sheldon?" He knew it was fanciful to think that her eyes had turned red, but  _dear Lord_ , she certainly looked demonic enough.

"People are not allowed in my bedroom," he reminded her, setting his jaw. If she desired a fight, a fight she would have. He had spent all night slaying warriors twice his size, making even her corn-fed Nebraska strength seem less intimidating.

She nearly spat out her next words, and he realized that he probably would have to disinfect after all. "Is that how the brilliant Sheldon Cooper treats a woman? You kiss her and then disappear?"

Sheldon flushed. "Reciprocating your attentions was a mistake," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Well, you know what, maybe our entire friendship was a mistake," she replied, sounding calmer now. He knew that tone, though. That was her openly antagonistic tone, the voice she used when she was baiting him, when she had passed angry and gone straight to the fury of Hell.

He chose his next words carefully. "Perhaps it was." Agreeing with Penny was generally best when trying to defuse the figurative bomb that was her temper. This, however, seemed to make her even angrier. She whipped herself around, walked resolutely to the door, and slammed it for dramatic effect. He sighed. Perhaps she was more actress than waitress after all.

Fifty-four seconds later, there was a quiet knock on his door. Leonard, obviously. "Was that Penny I heard?" he asked through the door.

"Yes, we are currently having a spat," Sheldon replied as he smoothed his perfectly-made bed.

"You seemed fine last night," his roommate said. "We were all watching Doctor Who and you let her pick the food...I mean, you guys seemed to be getting along great. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied in clipped tones. "Suffice it to say that we had a misunderstanding." He paused, and then added, "A serious misunderstanding."

Sheldon rarely had trouble focusing on his work. Even the day that the Star Trek film reboot had been announced, he had celebrated for approximately seven minutes and then returned to his physics with renewed vigor. This unresolved conflict with Penny, on the other hand, seemed to distract his attention constantly. After a couple of Google searches and a chat session with someone claiming to be a licensed therapist, he determined that the emotion he was experiencing was anxiety. He was anxious because he did not like Penny being angry with him, and he desired to continue their friendship.

That evening, he crossed the hall warily, wondering if the throat-punching rule could have been re-purposed for situations in which she was "madder than a polecat lit on fire". Still, the therapist had explained to him that he had to at least attempt to win back her favor, and while he was skeptical of her credentials, he recognized her superior knowledge involving interpersonal relations.

 _Knock knock knock._  "Penny."

 _Knock knock knock._  "Penny."

 _Knock knock knock._  "Penny."

"I'm not home!"

"Obviously, you are, or who could be—never mind," he said hastily, honestly trying not to anger her further. "I would like to invite you to Chinese and Vintage Video Game Night."

"Will you be there?" she asked.

Sheldon blinked. "Naturally, I—"

"No." Penny said curtly, and had she opened the door in the first place, she certainly would have shut it in his face now. Perhaps she was currently menstruating. That was the only reasonable explanation for her entirely irrational behavior. He returned to the apartment, but was unable to fully enjoy Chinese and Vintage Video Game Night. Every time he ended up on the Game Over screen, he pictured her laughing.

Sheldon dreaded the inevitable hold of sleep, but he knew that his requisite amount of rest would be disturbed, thus ruining his perfectly planned routine, if he attempted to stay awake, so he went to bed at his usual time, nine o'clock. Soon he succumbed to his body's circadian rhythms.

His eyes opened. He was in what appeared to be a boxing ring. He studied his attire: as was typical for boxers, he wore no shirt, and, naturally, boxer shorts. He shivered a bit, unused to such scant clothing. His only comfort was that the boxers were bright blue, which was a color that he happened to favor. The over-sized gloves on his hands were also blue, with fiery black accents.

"Penny?" he called out, somewhat nervously. The ring was poorly lit and appeared to be deserted. He quieted his heartbeat and listened.

"Sheldon."

He spun around. Either she had been standing there all along, or in the dream her footsteps were silent. Penny, too, was clothed as a boxer, although of course as a female she wore a small chest covering (he hesitated to call it a "shirt"—it covered little more than her brassiere would). Her eyes were set in a way that almost made him want to shrink back.

"I suppose we are to fight," he offered after a moment of silence. She was swinging her gloved hands this way and that, testing out their weight. Sheldon began to do the same, for intimidation's sake. His mother had taught him never to hit a girl, and if there was any way he could avoid this fight...

"I'm gonna crush you," she whispered harshly, and he twitched. Perhaps not.

He took a few steps toward her. "Did you know that boxing is also known as the 'sweet science'?"

"Don't care, Sheldon," she said, circling him now.

"Excuse me, but the signal has not yet been given."

A bell rung, and Sheldon cringed. Penny continued to circle him, and he mirrored her movements. She brought herself closer and leveled a punch at his shoulder; he moved quickly out of the way. Her eyes narrowed.

"Penny, I do not see the purpose of this at all. It neither furthers our research nor provides us with a sense of pleasure," he said, hoping that rational reasoning would bring her around. It would certainly be the first time, but Occam's Razor was always to be considered.

Evidently, in this situation, the simplest solution was not the best. "I'm getting a pretty nice sense of pleasure," she snarled, aiming a heavy hit at his hypogastrium. It connected, and had he been in his physical body, he had a feeling that he would have expelled that night's Chinese food. As it was, however, Sheldon doubled over in pain. He heard somebody gasp, and recognized that the voice was more feminine than his own; obviously, it was Penny.

A sudden touch was at his side, and once again, he experienced that endorphin high. If anything, this was even more powerful than when they had kissed, perhaps because he had not expected her skin on his own. His tactile sense felt entirely afire. "Sweetie," she said, in a voice dripping with concern (so much so that he wondered briefly if it was sarcasm). "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He coughed. "Perhaps the next time that you do not intend to hurt me, you shouldn't  _punch_  me in my  _gut_."

"All right, Sergeant Snarky. Maybe the next time that you don't intend to hurt  _me_ , you shouldn't kiss me and then leave like that." He was looking at her by then, and something about her expression was spellbinding. He'd never seen that look on her fact before, and hadn't a clue what it meant.

"Why did you kiss me?" Sheldon asked. It had been weighing on his mind all day, and if there was anything he hated, it was unanswered questions.

Penny bit her lip, and suddenly the room felt very warm. "I don't know, it was just the aftermath of the moment. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."

He wondered if he should accept her apology. Her explanation was absolutely irrational, but what seemed much more important than that was keeping her in her current place in his life. "I do not understand, but I will accept this, if you are no longer angry with me."

Her eyes were filled up with tears, and he was positive that she  _had_  to be menstruating, a few days early by his count. Perhaps the excess hormones flooding her system could also justify her inappropriate display of affection. "Oh, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. Hey. Why don't we blow this joint and get some ice cream? My treat."

"Penny, as this is our dream, I seriously doubt that payment will be required," he pointed out helpfully.

"It's the thought that counts!"

Sheldon considered lecturing her on the real meaning and origin of that phrase, but recalled her earlier anger and closed his mouth. "I suppose," he said instead, smiling. Ice cream sounded wonderful.


	6. In Which There is Darkness

Penny yawned, the taste of mocha ice cream still lingering in her mouth. It was a lovely, lazy Saturday morning. She turned over, and nearly groaned when she caught sight of her suitcase, still only half-packed. Her emotions had been too crazy the day before, and she'd given up on folding clothes, instead choosing to lay on her couch with her headphones, listening to songs she hoped couldn't apply to her life. Honestly, though, she didn't even know how to describe her problems at that moment.

Maybe she should do what Sheldon did, and just put everything in an equation, she thought. Variable x: herself. Variable y: her loony neighbor, who drove her crazy. In more ways than one, as it turned out. (x+y) multiplied by equal parts UST and wanting out of this crazy situation equaled a kiss on a battlefield, followed by a boxing match, followed by yummy, yummy ice cream.

It wasn't like she liked him, really. Penny hadn't done crushes in years, but when she had, she was always happy, all the time. She'd giggle like a kid on Pixy Stix, even when absolutely nothing was funny. She'd get  _high_  off the guy, just knowing he existed. She definitely wasn't high off of Sheldon. She cared about him, though, so much that it would sometimes surprise her. There was definitely something there, but what it was exactly was beyond her.

Of course, she was basically dating him, anyway, no matter how she felt about him. They spent all of their waking (and sleeping) hours together, ate together, even took part in each other's interests.

"Huh," she said musingly. "Wonder if he'll ever notice that."

Her flight was at two in the afternoon—a weird time, but she'd picked it so that she could sleep in. She finished packing, danced along to the radio, and at exactly eleven o'clock, three sharp raps sounded at her door.

Penny broke out into a smile. Okay, so maybe she did get a  _little_  bit high off of Sheldon.

"Penny?" he said for the third time, and she opened the door. He was wearing his blue Superman shirt, which happened to be her second favorite on him, if just for the way it brought out his eyes. Her favorite shirt of his was definitely the shirt he wore when they first met, as ugly as it was with its icky color and kind of tacky "The Flash" logo plastered on the front. Good memories were good memories, and she'd never forget seeing him in that shirt for the first time.

"Sup, Moonpie?" As she said it, she anticipated his answer.

"Only...never mind, I suppose it isn't important," Sheldon replied, clenching his fists only slightly. She gaped at him, but quickly recovered. Somebody had to be normal around here.

Wordlessly, she gestured for him to come in, and he entered, looking around somewhat fussily at the disarray. She'd left her bedroom door open, and he frowned as he caught sight of the suitcase. "Penny, what is this?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, babe, I thought I told you. I'm heading to Nebraska—family thing. Not a big deal, I should be back in a couple of days." The word "babe" slipped right off her tongue, and she bit it as punishment. Just because she decided that she might kind of have a little bit of a thing for him did  _not_  mean that she should just go around calling him sexy little pet names. Sheldon didn't even seem to notice the "babe", though, too busy fixating on the second half of her speech.

"Nebraska?" he nearly screeched. "You most certainly did not inform me! I believe that is a break of social protocol, you know. As your neighbor and trusted friend, I should have been told."

"I know," she said helplessly, brushing a stray hair from her eyes. "I really thought I did tell you."

Sheldon took a moment to compose himself, glaring down at the floor, then turned those bright blue eyes on her once more. "At what time are you leaving?"

"My flight's at two. Why?"

"If I drove, I would offer to drive you. However, you are well aware that I do not. Therefore, I will offer you Leonard's assistance on his behalf, as I imagine that he would acquiesce were he here."

"Oh, sweetie, that's not necessary," Penny said gently. "But thank you! I can drive myself."

"I am aware," Sheldon replied, looking a little put off. "I am also aware of your flagrant disregard for speed limits, and thought Leonard might be an acceptable substitute, for your health and my peace of mind. Will you be back by Tuesday?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know. I haven't been to a family reunion in God only knows how long. I had enough sick days to get off work until Thursday. Sorry to disrupt your schedule."

He pursed his lips. "If you are referring to Cheeseburger Night, I can return to Big Boy. Although the burgers there are certainly less satisfactory, I prefer that to having my food handled by an inept waiter or waitress at the Cheesecake Factory. If you are referring to the inconvenient emotions that I will experience in your absence, that is a problem somewhat less easily fixed. However, I'm sure that I will be able to 'deal'."

Her heart melted. Okay, for anybody else that would have been a bit rude, but for Sheldon it was downright adorable. He admitted that he would find it difficult to cope without her, not just because of the change in his routine, but because of his  _emotions_. She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him, or, worse, to kiss him again. After all, they'd just gotten over that last fiasco.

The last couple of hours before her flight was mostly spent in Sheldon's company. After he pleaded, she let him tidy up her apartment; afterward, they crossed over to 4A for lunch, and so that she could remind Leonard about her family reunion. Sheldon also gave her a new copy of the experimental information, including space and a questionnaire for her own evidence. Her drive to the airport was a little bit lonely, and she turned up the radio to drown out her thoughts about why, exactly, she would miss him so much.

Her father came to pick her up. The drive was kind of quiet, but that was okay. They didn't really need words to communicate. Penny stared out the passenger side window and caught sight of something new: a comic book store.

"Dad, how long has that comic book place been there?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at her, smiling. "A couple of months or so. Why, you want to stop by?"

Penny felt blood rise to her cheeks. "No, don't worry about that."

"I just wondered if those friends of yours had been rubbing off on you a little too much," he laughed, taking a turn. She smiled to herself. Oh, if only he knew.

She slept on the couch in Nebraska that night, but her dream proved where her heart had stayed. After she closed her eyes, the next thing she was aware of was dim lighting and the smell of plastic. Her heart leapt. Yes, she was definitely in the comic book store, but why she felt so happy about that was a mystery.

The place was deserted, of course. Penny wandered around, humming to herself, flipping through books that looked interesting, considering little bits of merchandise. She was actually a bit engrossed in a Wonder Woman comic—the cover had caught her eye, and she'd always been kind of a Wonder Woman girl (although that didn't mean she enjoyed cosplaying as Diana)—when she heard him.

"Penny?"

She closed the book and turned around, giving him a sunny smile. "Hey, Sheldon," she said, feeling like a stupid teenager with a crush. Not that she would have ever had a crush on Sheldon when she was a teenager.

"You—what are you wearing?" he managed, averting his eyes as he did so. She frowned and glanced down. A white T-shirt with the DC logo (which seemed to be a size or two too small on her), flats, and jeans that looked pretty tight. She looked over her shoulder at her butt. Okay, make that  _incredibly_ tight. It was a cute outfit, not really her style, and it definitely accentuated her positives, but why...?

 _Oh_. The comic book store, the tight pants, the DC shirt. This was his Kryptonite. Penny tried not to grin. His clothes were a little different too: the typical T-shirt, but without a layer underneath, and he was actually wearing jeans, for once. If she was being honest with herself, he really didn't look bad at all.

Penny wasn't stupid, and she'd actually read the experiment papers on the flight. Sheldon reasoned that they were creating this universe together, meaning that one of them had wanted her to wear this outfit, and since it wasn't her, it pretty much had to be him. So much for the asexual wonder. She guessed that he'd figured this out already, but was probably hoping that she wouldn't bring it up.

"You like it?" she replied flirtatiously, doing a little twirl. "Maybe I should dress like this more often..."

His expression told her all she needed to know.

* * *

Sheldon Cooper's first love and greatest passion was physics, and sometimes he thought that comics could rate a close second. That night, as he was seated on the floor of the comic store with dozens of neat stacks around him, Penny's eyes bright and interested—he considered the possibility of a third.

He recognized that his heart rate accelerated in her proximity, and always had. While this was a normal response from a male's autonomic nervous system, he estimated that the difference between his heart rate in proximity to any attractive female and the same in proximity to Penny was seven beats per minute, an important difference. He had discovered this within a month of meeting her, but had chalked it up to biology. Though he was not well-acquainted with the subject, he knew the basic theory that attraction was stronger to possible mates with whom one could create more genetically diverse progeny, and had simply assumed that their genes were different but compatible.

As time passed, however, he had been forced to accept that there was more to it than such an elementary biological explanation. The closer their relationship became, the stronger her effect on him, proving that he was undeniably attracted to her in more than a strictly evolutionary sense. Just how deep this attraction ran, however, he refused to consider.

When morning broke, it was not without sadness that he bade her ado. Every other night, he'd had the assurance of her presence the following day; tonight, he knew that it would be days before they would meet again in physical reality.

"Kinda lonely without Penny across the hall, huh?" Leonard said to him over breakfast. Sheldon's heart rate picked up at the mere mention of her name—it was like his roommate could read his mind. He forced himself to calm down.

"I suppose, but she will be returning within a few days," he replied curtly.

Leonard poked his oatmeal with a spoon. "Yeah, I know. When is she coming back, again?"

Sheldon sighed and muted the television. It was pointless to try and watch  _Battlestar Galactica_  with his roommate yammering on (although he had previously memorized the dialogue of this episode). "She isn't sure," he said, as if explaining to a child. "However, she may stay until late Wednesday. She must return by Tuesday or she will be fired from the Cheesecake Factory."

"Okay, jeez, I was just asking."

"And I was just telling you." He switched the sound back on.

"Somebody's touchy this morning," Leonard said into his oatmeal. Sheldon shot him a death glare.

Ordinarily, Sheldon dedicated Sundays to various projects and experiments that were better suited to the home environment. He also called his mother in the evening, before her eight o'clock Bible study. Today, he found himself unable to focus on his regular pursuits. For some reason, he could not tear his brain away from the image of Penny, her smile, that shirt that was decidedly too small, the feel of her lips against his...

Research. Research was the answer. He generally preferred to research using physical copies of books, as they were generally more reputable than Internet articles, but he had no texts on the subject and did not want to arouse suspicion. Before long, he had half a dozen tabs open, all focused on females and their reproductive habits: "why females kiss", "dynamics of a kiss", "potential romantic partner", "roommate's ex-girlfriend", "physicist and waitress", "physicist and actress", "possible romantic/sexual feelings for me".

His first search term yielded articles on how to kiss a woman and why such contact was important. He discovered that, apparently, a kiss is a female's most important test of a male's reproductive capability, and he read about incorrect ways to engage in osculation. Sheldon stored this information for later, although it was hardly relevant to his current research. After a moment's consideration, he saved the webpage into a new folder. This experiment would need sources, like any other.

He saved a few more results on the subject of kissing, including an interesting tactic involving a handshake. Again, irrelevant at the current stage, but data was data, and he was over his head as far as pre-reproductive behaviors. "Potential romantic partner" results included some research papers of interest that he also placed in the folder. Finally, some proper evidence, as opposed to mere anecdotes. He found only a few subpar jokes for "physicist and waitress", and "physicist and actress" covered the mundane lives of so-called "celebrities".

The last search term, "possible romantic/sexual feelings for me", he had to rephrase several times before he hit pay dirt. "DOES SHE LIKE YOU (100% ACCURATE)?" screamed the quiz title. According to the helpful informational sidebar, the user was aErOcHic1995, a complex username that was, presumably, coded. Sheldon scanned the questions; while poorly spelled, they did seem to reflect a certain emotional depth, and the quiz was supposedly accurate.

He completed the quiz quickly, feeling a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach as he clicked "Submit". The results screen answered his query concisely, with an incorrectly capitalized affirmative and a picture of two intertwined hands. Sheldon hit the back button and answered each question again, garnering the same result. He frowned and hummed, finally typing the quiz title into the built-in site search engine. Hundreds of similar quizzes appeared.

Sheldon made his way down the list one quiz at a time. He opened a Word document and began pasting his results into it. He then reorganized this into a listed chart; the mathematician in him preferred numerical data to visualizations.

Total Quizzes Taken: 513

By Result:

Affirmative 498

Negative 12

Other 3

This was fairly conclusive data, even for a physicist. Slightly over 97% of his sources supported the conclusion that Penny had romantic and/or sexual feelings for him. Under 3% had contradicted this, and .0058% of the quizzes seemed to have been written by illiterate persons. He printed this, as well as his previous research, and was able to return to his ordinary activities.

That night, he found himself looking forward to gathering more data with Penny, data for both of his experiments. Of course, the more newly implemented plan had to be kept a secret from her, in case she overreacted like she had with the unnecessary display of affection. Nine o'clock was a welcoming mistress.

Instead of a pleasant atmosphere like the comic book store or even the ballroom, he found himself in darkness. At first, it was complete and thick; he was unable to even see his own body. Sheldon was barefoot, and could feel that the material beneath his feet seemed to be a cool, clean surface, so after a minute he sat down upon it and waited. He found it nearly impossible to count, for some reason, but in any case, eventually the sky became lighter. It  _was_  an image of the sky, and it had transformed from the dead of night into a storm.

"Penny?" he called. Lightning flashed in the sky, but no thunder sounded. He was seated still when a noise broke the silence, though whether it was an answer to his call he could not be certain. It sounded like a woman, sobbing.

"Penny?" Again, no answer, but the sobbing became louder. Sheldon stood up and tried to determine from which direction the sound came, but there was no rhyme or reason to it—it was everywhere.

"Penny?" To his right, now. He turned and began to run, stumbling in the darkness. The sound increased in volume.

Sheldon ran like this for what seemed like hours, long after his feet grew sore and his throat tired of yelling. Every time he considered stopping, the crying would become louder and more urgent. Something deep in his chest seemed to propel him forward; a buried instinct, perhaps. The sky passed through cycles as he ran, never becoming quite clear, but varying on a scale of darkness and cloudiness.

He tripped, suddenly, during a period of darkness. The sobbing ceased. Trying to gain his footing, he touched what was definitely human skin. Whoever it was sniffled. "Penny?"

"Go away, Sheldon."

Sheldon hesitated. "If I may...perhaps I could comfort you in your distress?"

"Go away, Sheldon," she repeated, more forcefully this time. The sky was lightening, and he looked up in horror. He could feel the instability—the dream was slipping away. Penny had discovered the same escape as he.

"No!" he shouted, as she swam before his eyes. He could see her clearly for an instant, her face obviously tear-streaked and her eyes indescribably sad. Sheldon had never been an empathetic person, but his heart was aching.

He sat up in the bed and took a second to consider his plan of action. After a moment he nodded and, thus strengthened in his resolve, flipped on the light, retrieved his suitcase from the top of his closet, and began to fill it with clothes and emergency supplies.

"Sheldon, the hell are you doing?" Leonard asked from the doorway, sounding obviously drowsy. "I had to go to the bathroom and then I saw that your light was on. You okay? Seriously, what are you—"

Sheldon didn't bother looking at him. "Packing."

"Packing?" he repeated. "Where are you going?"

Sheldon zipped the suitcase. "Nebraska."


	7. In Which the Reaction Accelerates

"Penny?"

She opened her eyes to the sight of her father leaning over her, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. "What time is it?" she muttered, looking out the living room window. The first rays of sunlight had not yet begun to peek into the room.

"It's, uh, about ten to six, and you've got a visitor," he said, obviously a bit uncomfortable. Penny squinted.

"A  _visitor_?" she repeated incredulously, propping herself up on her elbows. "Who the—"

She fell silent, suddenly hearing a very familiar voice telling her mother that no, he would not like coffee, but if she had tea, that would not go unappreciated; that he never drank coffee, except for this one incident involving her daughter that nearly led him to a caffeine addiction. Penny's mouth dropped open. "Oh my Lord," she said, sounding remarkably like him. "Sheldon's in my house."

Her father was still looking at her. "Is this the uh...the crazy one that you've talked about?"

Penny nodded silently, pushing off her covers as she did so. "I should go...talk to..." She lost her words as she drifted into the kitchen. The sight of her mother, slumped down, drinking her coffee across from Sheldon, who was sitting up even straighter than usual, and appeared to be lecturing her on the difference between biology and physics...it was so surreal that she wasn't able to do much except blink for a good few seconds.

Sheldon caught sight of her immediately. "Penny!" he exclaimed, rising. Maybe it was the lack of coffee, the fact that she was living on only a few hours of sleep, that whiskey she'd downed the night before, or just the friggin' weird situation, but she felt as if she was trying to swim through quicksand. Her head  _hurt_.

She clutched her temples, feeling like her brains were about to fall out. "Ugh," she got out before she felt a touch at her side. Her mom was looking up at her over her coffee mug with an expression that didn't exactly help Penny's extreme emotion of wanting-to-punch-her-in-the-face (which she'd been experiencing for oh, about twelve hours or so). Her father was still lingering in the doorway. Which meant that the tall presence behind her was Sheldon, and he was guiding her into a chair. Gently, he helped her to sit down.

Gawd, this day could  _not_  get any weirder.

"Penny," he said seriously, craning his neck down at her like a bird. Somewhere in her mind, the comparison was funny, but she didn't smile. "Are you okay?"

She thought about this. Words came back to her ears, as loud as if they were really being said.

_"—all that time in California and still just a waitress—"_

_"—if it had been Penny, she wouldn't have been smart enough—"_

_"—not even them girls on Jersey Shore as slutty as our Penny—"_

He hadn't taken his hand off of her, and if she had been a little less out of it, that would have been cause enough to freak out. He was worried about her, she realized, and something in her heart seemed to give. The numbness faded away, and she suddenly felt, really felt, the deep thankfulness for what he'd done. Sheldon had come to save her again. With that realization, unfortunately, all of the last night's memories flooded back into her brain and she winced. Life had kicked her in the butt yet again, but she mustered up the strength to shake her head. "No. I'm not okay, Sheldon."

Her words were barely louder than a breath, but he seemed to hear her—his Vulcan hearing, she thought fondly. "I see," he said. Anybody else would have thought this an emotionless reaction, but Penny saw the care in his eyes. She knew him too well.

Penny forced a smile onto her face. "We're gonna take a walk," she announced, removing Sheldon's hand from her shoulder and clasping it with her own. Her father reacted visibly. Her mother's face didn't change, and somehow that just made her even angrier.

The air was brisk, and as soon as she escaped from that suffocating house, Penny felt more alive. Sheldon was silently watching her, as if she might break at any second. She knew he was expecting her to talk about it; she knew that she didn't want to, not yet. Not here.

"So, how did you find my house?" she asked, choosing the simplest of the questions. Not "why did you come", not "how do you care about me so much", not "I'm starting to suspect that you're in love with me, but that's a little bit crazy". Okay, the last one was a statement, but it certainly raised enough questions.

"I'm a physicist, Penny," he said in that familiar, insufferable tone, and for the first time since coming back to Nebraska, she genuinely smiled. "All right, I asked Wolowitz."

"How did he—nevermind. I don't want to know. Okay. So you...flew here...to get me...right after you had the dream?"

Sheldon nodded. "Obviously," he replied, but he kept it under his breath and halfway civil. She rolled her eyes, still feeling touched.

"Thank you," Penny said in a small voice. Suddenly, last night didn't seem to matter. What mattered was walking out here with Sheldon, sunrise coating their skin. What mattered was that he came for her.

Oh, she was going to cry. She tried to hold it in, knowing that it would make him uncomfortable, knowing that she would just feel worse afterward, but it was impossible. Within a minute, she was not only sobbing, but she had her face buried in that butt-ugly jacket of his, and his arms were almost kind of around her, and it was a lot closer to perfect than anything with any guy she'd ever been with.

It's time to face the music, she thought with surprising clarity, considering all of her other thoughts that day had been a jumble. She loved him. She was  _in_  love with him. It wasn't like she hadn't seen this coming, but she hadn't expected to have to face it so soon. She'd expected to be thrown into some kind of depression, but instead she felt this incredible peace. It was like that moment any actor knew well, after searching for the character, when they just  _found_  it and  _became_  it. It clicked into place.

Eventually, Penny ran out of tears. She stood up, stopped leaning on him, and couldn't blame him for looking relieved. She reached up and wiped her eyes; her hand came away with mascara on it. She'd forgotten to take her makeup off last night. Oh well. He'd seen her look worse, and it wasn't like he cared anyway. She remembered his expression when she'd worn the DC shirt and smiled to herself. Maybe he did care a bit, but he definitely wasn't some shallow guy who wouldn't like her when she had makeup all over her face.

"So," she said, when she was sure that she wouldn't start crying again. "What was the rest of the plan?"

Sheldon looked taken aback.

"For coming here, I mean. How were you going to leave?"

He relaxed slightly. " _We_ ," he said, with emphasis, "are going to return by train. There is a beautifully reproduced overnight dinner train that will take us as far as Los Angeles, and we may take a bus to Pasadena from there."

"How are we getting to the station?"

"I managed to cajole a taxi driver to take me out 'into the country', presumably we could do the same to return to the city."

"Or we could steal the truck," Penny said, grinning. His expression was shocked. "I was  _joking_ , Sheldon."

"Oh."

"You really did think of everything, didn't you?"

"It's kind of my job," he replied, smirking. She giggled.

He was smiling, too. It looked good on him. She could get used to this new, easy interaction, although she kind of wished that they could be back in California. She didn't want to have to face her family again, especially her mom. "When were you planning on us leaving?"

Sheldon frowned. "My  _original_  plan, which I conceived on the flight, involved us leaving immediately, as I did not know if you were in physical danger. As you do not seem to be, I suppose I must amend my plan to account for anything else you need. However, I would much prefer if we could leave as soon as possible."

"Could we leave tomorrow?" she asked, almost regretting the words as they left her mouth. His eyes darkened, but he nodded.

Penny looked around. The sun had risen completely, and she wanted to stay out there forever. Still, she'd done enough running lately. "We should head back," she said softly, and he followed her.

* * *

Sheldon despised change, in general. Any deviation from his routine was unwelcome, and yet recently he'd been willingly subjecting himself to change on a regular basis. He had allowed Penny to disrupt his life to such a great extent that he was here in Nebraska instead of California. Yet he could not regret his actions, and not only because they were necessary. He was always more content in her presence. It was troubling, but true nonetheless. He could ignore the facts no longer.

He looked at her, as they sat with her mother and father at lunch and attempted to pretend that everything was "okay". They were courteous enough, but Sheldon was perceptive enough to catch the coldness behind her mother's words. Her father was a bit more of an enigma, but he did not seem openly hostile.

Penny was doing a remarkable job of appearing to be happy, and he thought that even a year ago he probably would have believed her. Perhaps her career choice was not so misinformed after all. Even though her smile was false, her beauty was unmistakable. He had to catch his breath between bites of his sandwich (he tried to suppress the voice in his mind telling him that Monday was not Sandwich Day).

Sheldon was a stubborn man, but he was also a great scientist. He knew that one of his hypotheses, namely "I am above romantic love and will never fall into its trap", had been firmly disproven. The evidence was indisputable. He could only find himself arguing the other side. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and to take her away from whatever hurt she had found here.

That afternoon, he and Penny passed the time reading. He found it difficult to concentrate, however, having the most peculiar sense of anticipation. At exactly 2:03, there was a knock at the door. Penny's mother answered it, and ushered the guest into the living room.

It was a man; tall, average build, blond, a scruffy beard. His skin was pale, his eyes were rather wild. "Dave," Penny said quietly. The name immediately connected with a memory—Sheldon remembered Penny mentioning her brother, Dave. He had been incarcerated, but evidently was no longer.

"Hey," Dave said, in a meandering tone. "Who're you?"

At Penny's prompting, Sheldon shook her brother's hand, trying to conceal his shudder of distaste. "I'm Dr. Sheldon Cooper."

Dave nodded, but his eyes were on his sister. Sheldon resisted the urge to reach for his Purell, remembering Penny's lecture on the rudeness of "that kind of behavior". After what he thought was an appropriate amount of time, he excused himself. Once safely inside the bathroom, he scrubbed his hands vigorously. Penny's brother had looked like his last shower had taken place before Sheldon had received his first doctorate, and to be honest, that disgusted him. There must have been some value in the man, he reflected, for her expression had been content, happy even.

He paused. Dave might have been the reason they were staying another night. Yes, that seemed rational. Additionally, that would explain the trip to this nightmarish land in the first place—Penny had her own rationale for desiring to see her brother. He could not identify with these emotions, but he understood the concept well enough.

Sheldon dried his hands on the towel. He longed to discover why Penny had been in the Darklands (as he called them in his mind), and why she had cried that morning. He was, however, familiar enough with social protocol's dictates to understand that he should wait for her to bring it up, as frustrating as that was.

The rest of their afternoon was spent talking to Dave, or, in Sheldon's case, doing his best not to say anything. Every time that Sheldon began to speak, Dave looked confused and somewhat angry, so Sheldon found it best to simply occupy his mind with other matters while Penny and her brother conversed. He found some notepaper and began to write some simple equations, more a distraction than anything relevant. He kept a figurative ear open to their conversation, but some of it seemed to be coded.

For example, when he began to write, Dave took notice of him again, and said to Penny in what seemed to be a confidential tone, "So are you?"

He heard the sharp intake of her breath. "No, no. Well. Not  _really_ , you know? It's...complicated."

"What kind of complicated?"

"High school complicated. Only somehow it's worse, I think."

"Hoo, boy."

Sheldon could make neither heads nor tails of this conversation, and decided to assume, until further evidence presented itself, that somebody (most likely Penny's father) had taught them a special cornhusker code, for when outsiders were present. He was not offended at the use, although he had a hunch that they were talking about him.

When the discussion was not coded, it was uninteresting. Dave had manoeuvred a complex appeal, pretended to "see the light", and sold out several of his comrades; as a result, he stood before them today a free man. Sheldon supposed that was somewhat impressive, but the man's swaggering pride over his release was, quite frankly, uncalled-for.

At 4:58, Penny said, "I'll be back, you guys. There's something I have to do."

"Well, of course you'll be back. The only reason you wouldn't return is if you were abandoning me. From what I have seen of your character, I would highly doubt that you would do that," he replied.

She put a hand on his shoulder. He expected to tense, but instead his muscles relaxed as soon as her touch graced the fabric of his T-shirt. "Thanks, honey!"

At 6:15, she returned with a bulging bag of takeout. "There's another one in the car," she grunted. Sheldon looked at Dave, who definitely possessed superior musculature, but he made no move to volunteer. The physicist retrieved the bag and took it to Penny.

"This is Thai food," he stated rather obviously.

She grinned. "Yeah, I know. I figured if I dragged you out to Nebraska—"

"You didn't drag me," he interjected quietly.

"—and made you stay another night and screwed up your whole routine, the least I could do was to bring you a little bit of California. Well, a little bit of Thailand, if you wanna be technical." Penny paused, his earlier statement finally receiving her full attention. "What did you mean, a second ago?"

"Of course you didn't drag me. I made the decision of my own free will, because I...I care about you deeply, Penny," he said, finding it easier to breathe after he spoke than before.

Sheldon watched as a happy expression spread across her face. It started in her eyes, unusual because Penny normally smiled first and appeared truly happy later, perhaps because she invoked the facial feedback effect to improve her mood. If so, this was a true smile with its origins in her emotions. A number of unusual sensations began to occur to him physiologically, and he resolved to begin journalling this reaction when he had a moment alone.

"I care about you deeply, too, Sheldon."

The sensations increased tenfold.

Before going to bed that night (he was to sleep on the couch, but thankfully it was long enough for his frame), Sheldon turned to Penny and said in a low tone, "I have a place I want to take you tonight."

Dave, standing nearby, snickered and walked away.

Penny smiled. "More innuendo, Sheldon."

"I apologize. Would you try your best to clear your mind before sleeping, so that you will join my dream?"

She hesitated. "Wouldn't it be easier if I just pictured the place, too?"

Her understanding really had improved; he wondered if she had read the newest revision to the papers. "Generally, yes, but as you have not been to this place before, it might cause a loss of stability in the dream."

"We haven't tried that before," she mused.

"And we are not going to try it tonight. Your mind has become exhausted, and I do not want to strain it further by forcing it to create a place you've never seen."

A strange expression crossed her face. "You realize that you're putting my needs over the 'collective good'? Over your research? Over science?"

Sheldon pursed his lips. "Good night, Penny."

As she walked away, he heard her humming "Goodnight My Someone", and hid a smile.

Sheldon had worried that, as his usual routine had been disrupted, he would find it difficult to sleep, but he slipped off to a peaceful slumber immediately, and found himself where he'd hoped to be: Würzburg. He was standing before the Frankoniabrunnen fountain. He walked a circle around it, observing his surroundings—as usual, the dream world was deserted.

"Sheldon?"

Ah, she had arrived sooner than he had anticipated. A moment after he heard her voice, she appeared in his visual field. Penny looked stunning in a dark blue sundress, her hair up to reveal her lovely neck. He swallowed, remembering suddenly that he was the one who had "dressed her".

All of this was lost on her. She was looking at the fountain. "Where are we?"

"Würzburg."

"Germany?"

"Yeah."

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

"It was a gift to a prince of Bavaria," he said.

"You taught here, right?" Penny asked.

"Well, not  _here_ , but I did teach in Germany, yes."

She sat on the edge of the fountain and patted the space next to her. Sheldon sat dutifully. "Why don't you tell me about that? About your childhood and everything, I mean."

"All righty..."

So he told her everything, from his family to the other children who were  _almost_  his friends, once upon a time. His studies and his failures, his professors and his students. Eventually, his stories wore out, and she picked up where he left off, telling him about her dozen elementary school best friends, her first theatre class, the first time she realized that she could use her looks to get what she wanted. It was in that way that they occupied the night, and Sheldon thought later that it was, perhaps, his favorite dream of all.


	8. In Which a Bond is Formed

"Oh my God, Sheldon," Penny breathed as the door to their compartment swung open. When he'd said "overnight dinner train", she hadn't been exactly sure what to expect. She'd never really been on a train for a significant amount of time, but this was crazy. This was better than flying first-class (based on what she'd seen on movies, anyway).

Sheldon wandered over to the bedside stand and lifted up a laminated sheet. "Oh, the menu. Good."

Her fingers lingered on the compartment door as she shut it. Being here seemed weird. She mentally rephrased that: being here with  _Sheldon_ , alone, seemed weird. Strangely intimate.

"So this place is Sheldon-approved, right?" she said absently.

She was aware of him turning to look at her. It was hard not to be aware of his every movement in these cozy quarters. " _Penny_. It's a  _train_."

"Sorry, stupid question," she muttered, kicking her shoes off, throwing open the curtains, and sitting down on one of the beds. It was a little past four, and the sunlight felt downright magical on her skin. Penny missed California—it was times like these that made her realize how much it had become her home.

She'd slept until eleven, and it'd been heavenly. Leaving Nebraska with Sheldon was, she discovered, a helluva lot better than arriving without him. It felt right, somehow, even with her mom shooting daggers (talk about your mixed metaphors) and Dave seeming like seventeen kinds of awkward.

Sheldon unpacked a few things carefully. She watched him as he did so, settling herself down on the bed. He was always so careful, so methodical. She wondered if he'd been like that even as a little boy, and tried not to giggle. She could only imagine what Mary had gone through trying to raise Sheldon. Any unusually bright little kid could be a handful, but Sheldon was something else entirely.

Still, she knew that "love conquered all". Mary certainly loved her son, and that had definitely helped her. Heck, Penny couldn't have put up with the whack-a-doodle this long if she didn't love him. She'd known that for awhile—it was only recently that she discovered that she happened to be, you know,  _in_  love with him, too.

"You're not going to sleep again, are you?" Sheldon asked, not looking up. "Goodness gracious, you slept for over twelve hours last night."

"I'm not going back to sleep," she said, laughing a little. "I just don't have anything to do, and this bed is comfy."

"Well, if you lack occupation, I did have a chance to revise my records of the experiment while on the flight." He held up a neat stack of papers, held together by staples and a binder clip.

Penny considered this. "You know what, yeah." She reached out and met him halfway. Their fingers brushed, and she suddenly doubted his past lectures on the impossibility of human flesh conducting electricity.

An hour and a half later, Sheldon looked up from his book. At some point, he had decided that the chair in the corner was the optimal seat in the compartment. "I'm hungry."

"I am too," she said. Lunch seemed like a long, long time ago.

"Shall we order in, or visit the dining hall?" he asked, reaching for the menu once more.

Penny groaned. "I look like crap, I don't want anybody else to see me. Order in." It was true. She'd showered, of course, and put on a decently cute outfit, but she just wasn't feeling it when she looked in the mirror. Maybe it was the bags still under her eyes that no amount of concealer seemed to solve; maybe it was the fact that her hair was used to the humidity of California and Nebraska threw it off.

"I fail to see this resemblance to feces, but I agree that we should order in," Sheldon said, passing her the menu. She scanned it quickly.

"They have steak," she murmured reverently, feeling his eyes shift to her.

Was that a smile playing at his lips? "Ah yes. You  _love_  steak," he replied, imitating her. She giggled.

"Well, what are you going to have?"

"Today is Tuesday. Tuesday night is Cheeseburger Night. Therefore, I will be having a cheeseburger."

"Awh, I bet this waitress won't be as cute as the usual one," she teased.

Sheldon looked down slightly. "Yes, I expect she won't be."

Something like that  _really_  shouldn't have made her heart melt. Somebody forgot to tell that to her heart.

They carried the boxes to the table in the compartment, Penny with her steak and Sheldon with his cheeseburger. They sat, and ate, and talked. Penny couldn't help but remember the few times in the past when it had been just the two of them.

"This is really nice, Sheldon," she said finally. She wasn't too awesome with gratitude, especially with Sheldon. Normally, she'd give the person a hug or a friendly kiss, but that obviously wouldn't happen with this one. Falling for a weirdo was the worst.

He smiled between careful bites. "Yes, the accommodations are lovely, aren't they? The train itself is fascinating. It—"

Penny cut him off. "I was thanking you, honey."

"Oh. Well, in that case, you're welcome," he said quietly.

She looked at the room. "And I gotta say, I'm glad they gave us two beds. I mean...you know."

Sheldon nodded. "Yes, that does make matters less complicated. Are you aware of the 18th-century courtship practice of bundling? The intended couple would share a bed, usually separated by a 'bundling board' or 'centerboard'. It conserved space, retained heat, and encouraged non-coital intimacy."

Penny thought about this. "That's kind of cool, actually."

"I thought you would appreciate it."

They finished their dinner in silence and cleaned up. Something had changed between them, just then. The change in atmosphere made Penny a bit uncomfortable, but she forced herself to stay calm. She was probably just overreacting. Sure, she had begun to accept her feelings for Sheldon, but she knew that it was unlikely that he would ever really return them (or do anything about it, anyway).

She found herself staring out the window. The landscape was somehow captivating. She barely felt as if they were moving, and yet, there it went. Trees and fields and rivers and plains...

"Penny?"

Her breath caught, and it took a conscious effort for her to start again. Sheldon's tone sounded somewhat tentative, nervous, even, and she wouldn't let herself think about what she wanted the reason to be.

She turned to look at him, standing as she did so.

* * *

Sheldon was a man of action, at least in his own estimation. It was his duty to do what needed to be done, and this chemical change that had taken place within his body urged him onward. It was imperative, before they returned to California and were faced with the unwelcome presence of his friends.

"Penny," he said again, feeling slightly calmer now that he had assured himself of the plan's rationality. She blinked up at him, and he cursed her for managing to look so attractive and so clueless simultaneously.

"Yes, Sheldon?"

He did not understand her tone. It did not echo of hostility nor of her usual "playful banter". It was almost akin to her sad voice, although he could not imagine why she would be upset.

Sheldon forged onward. "As you are probably aware, I am not adept at expressing emotions. However, that does not mean that I do not possess them, no matter how much inconvenience they may cause me."

Penny nodded, her eyes focusing on something far away. She was biting her lip—oh, Lord, she was biting her lip, and if he hadn't already intended to kiss her, his intentions would have changed.

He was so close to her physically by this point. There were many things that Sheldon Cooper had a healthy fear of: large crowds and falling, for two. Yet nothing compared to the sheer, fear-based adrenaline high he experienced at that moment. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady himself, turned his head approximately 35 degrees, and touched his lips to hers.

Nearly instantaneously, he felt a rush shock through his system. Penny drew him nearer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He had intended to make the contact brief, both to prevent unnecessary bacterial exchange and so that they could then discuss the matter, yet he had lost count of how many seconds the kiss had lasted. Somewhere in his mind, Sheldon considered that he should break the kiss, but that action seemed so entirely contrary to his desires that he discarded the notion entirely.

This kiss was entirely different from any of the kisses he had received, possibly because he reciprocated. Yet it was also different from the kiss in the dream. That was reasonable, as well. At that time, he was not yet aware of the extent of his feelings for Penny.

Their lips finally parted ways, and he found himself short of breath. Her eyes were startlingly dilated and entrancing. He could not find it in himself to even speak.

After a moment, she spoke. "That...how do you feel about me, Sheldon?"

He blinked. "I thought my actions would make that clear."

Penny gave him an indecipherable look. He sighed. "My gathered evidence suggests that I am in love with you. I cannot bear to think of you being unhappy, I enjoy your company more than that of any other person of my acquaintance, and I find myself irresistibly attracted to you. I was led to believe that you returned these feelings, although if I am incorrect, I apologize for my advances." Was he blushing? Oh, what this woman put him through.

"I return your feelings," she interjected breathlessly.

"Well...good," he said awkwardly.

"Yeah."

Sheldon looked down at his hands.

"Do you want to kiss again?" Penny asked.

"Could we?" he responded, irritated with his own phrasing. Of course they  _could_ —

—and that thought was lost as her lips recaptured his.

After a few more kisses, they headed to the dining car again. Evidently, Penny no longer cared about how she perceived her looks. They ordered drinks (his was non-alcoholic), and sat down. For awhile, they only stared at each other, drinking each other in. Sheldon would normally be uncomfortable with this, but that day was different.

_She_  was different.

Eventually, they began to talk. A cocktail loosened Penny's lips to the point where she could tell him about her mother, and for the first time, Sheldon was thankful for the existence of alcohol. At first, he worried that she would cry again, and although he felt considerably more in touch with his emotional side at that moment, he knew that was beyond his abilities.

"So basically, she thinks I'm not good enough, that I'm wasting my time trying to get a job as an actress, and that I'm just a dumb slut," Penny finished, and he thanked God (even though he insisted in his disbelief of any deity) that she hadn't shed a tear.

"That is absurd," he replied immediately. "You excel in many areas, and I could certainly not tolerate your presence if you were  _dumb_."

She laughed and told him that he was sweet. He assumed that this had to be the alcohol talking, because he had merely stated the truth.

They talked for a few more hours, until the dining car closed. At one point, she held his hand. It was not an unpleasant experience, although he feared that his own hand became too sweaty for comfort.

The only other noteworthy incident that night occurred after all the night-time preparations were made and they were ready to retire, although it was past Sheldon's routine bed-time and before Penny's. She turned off the light and asked, "Sheldon, am I dreaming?"

He considered her statement. "As I have sensed no distortion in reality, I doubt it. Why do you ask?"

"Because...this. You kissing me, us being...something different."

"Even if you were dreaming, it would hardly change the circumstances," he reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He heard her sliding under the covers.

"Of course I am."

There was silence for a moment, and Sheldon wondered if she had succumbed to sleep.

"Sheldon?"

Obviously not. "Yes, Penny?"

"Good night."

"Good night."

He slipped into a beautiful sleep, a smile planted on his face.


	9. Epilogue: In Which Loose Ends are Tied Up

There are those who may wonder what was in store for Sheldon and Penny next. This story is not nearly as remarkable as their shared dream experience and subsequent entrance into a romantic relationship, so it will be recounted in briefer prose.

The pair woke up the next morning from a dreamless sleep. Sheldon would remind us that this would be a biological impossibility, so allow me to specify that the sleep contained dreams that they did not remember the next morning. They were both somewhat disappointed by this, and after a few weeks were forced to discard the experiment, since it seemed unlikely that they could ever continue it. Sheldon filed it away in his desk and in his memory.

The rest of the trip gave them ample time to discuss how to break the news to their friends. Penny favored a secretive approach, but she knew that Sheldon would find this difficult, so they resolved to tell everybody on their return.

When they did so, Leonard and Howard were shocked. Raj merely laughed and flashed them a double thumbs-up. Apparently, he'd suspected something going on all along. They never told their friends about the shared dreams, and were intentionally vague whenever questioned about their early relationship.

Six months after their relationship changed, Sheldon flew to Europe for a conference. They shared a dream that night. While they both realized that separation could allow them to continue their experiment, they also realized it wasn't worth it. Upon his return, Sheldon declared that he was unable to imagine his life without her presence and proposed marriage. To everybody's surprise (except for his own, of course), she accepted.

They married after fourteen months of courtship, although some would say they had been courting ever since they met, in their peculiar way. The circumstances of their shared dreams remained forever a mystery, although they did continue their research whenever one of them was separated from the other. This was not often. While either one would proudly exclaim that the other "drove them up the wall", they couldn't bear to be without each other, something both sickening and endearing for those around them.

Two years into their marriage, Sheldon won the Nobel prize. His wife then took  _him_  on a second honeymoon. Soon afterward, she announced her pregnancy with their first child. A daughter, who proved to be smart, beautiful, and entirely real.


End file.
